Apprehensions Of Ally Dawson
by NotALoveSong88
Summary: Ally shy's away from everything, Austin lives his life to the fullest, maybe they can teach each other how to live, and maybe find love along the way.


**Apprehensions Of Ally Dawson**

_There was a writer who once realised that she wasn't living her life as full as she had wished she was. So she turned her life around, it was hard, and long, but eventually she got there, and now she is happier then she's ever been, doing everything she's always wanted to do, living her life._

_Then she realised, maybe there are some people out there who are like she used to be. And she decided a way to get the story and advice out there was to write. So she did. And she called it Apprehensions of Ally Dawson. She hopes you enjoy._

**Chapter One**

_Did I ever tell you how hard I find it to live in New York?_

No? Well let me tell you.

I get so nervous walking out my apartment door in case I've left something behind. I never have before, but there's always that worry. Then I'll get down to the street and thing, did I lock the door? And usually I don't trust my judgment, so I climb back up the 4 flights of stairs that smell like something died, and probably did, just to discover that the door is locked, and I shouldn't have worried. Usually by the time I get to the subway station, I've missed my train and have to wait five minutes for the next one, making me five minutes late. Then I usually get off last since I get nervous asking people to move to let me by, making me ten minutes late. When I finally get to the surface of the Earth and breath the fresh air once again, made no better by fumes from racing taxis, I walk to work. I usually find myself standing outside this old record store, I'd never seen the inside, but the window had a couple of old record players, Polaroid cameras, old clothes, various records ranging from the Sex Pistols to Jake Bugg. I've never actually had the courage to walk in and have a look around. By the time I've pulled myself away from the store, I'm fifteen minutes late.

When I actually get to work, I spend five minutes talking to my "boss" and apologizing countless times for being so late, even though I know he's not bothered. He's very laid back and more concerned that I'm okay then actually getting there, and you'd have thought by now I'd have realised that, but no.

Today, like ever other day was the same. I woke up at 9:30, showered, dried my hair and put it up into a messy ponytail , dressed into a pair of old, ripped skinny jeans and an oversized dark red sweatshirt since it was cold outside, then put on my old black combat boots and rushed out of the door. I tried the lift, like everyday, in hope that it would work, but like everyday, it never did, and I had to rush down the stairs till I got to the bottom. A sudden rush of anxiety rushes over me, I know full well I locked the door, yet I needed to run back up the stairs only to try the handle and find it locked.

When I finally got down to the street, it was becoming autumn fast so it had started to get chilly. The trees that were around had leaves that were slowly turning a wide range of yellows and oranges. The walk to the subway station was surprisingly calm. Not many people were hustling past, mostly taxis rushing by. The calmness changed suddenly when I got to the platform, people were pushing and shoving, shouting at each other because they knocked their bag on the floor or spit their coffee. By the time my train even comes I had already had coffee spilt on my shoes and been shoved in the stomach. By the time I had gotten off my train I was ten minutes late, someone had pulled my ponytail and some thread on my jumper had been pulled since someone tried to grab my arm. I quickly ran up to the surface, feeling like I could finally breath fresh air again. After all the violence on the tube I finally get to treat myself to looking inside the record store window for a few minutes. They had changed the display, there was now a new record player with a map pattern on the box. The vinyl's records surrounding it were The Kooks - Inside In/Inside Out and Amy Macdonald - A Curious Thing, these were a couple of my favourite albums and I had always wanted to own them on vinyl, it was so tempting to walk in and look around, but I knew I had to get to work.

"Hey" says a voice to my left. I turn to see a blonde boy's head hanging out of the door to the store.

"Hi" I smile. I couldn't really see him, but his hair was sandy blonde and quite long, hanging over his face, just over his eyes.

"You know. I see you look in here nearly every morning. Yet you never walk in. Why not?"

"I don't know. I need to get to work so…"

"Okay, what about after work?"

"I don't know"

"You always look really happy"

"Hu?" I ask confused.

"Whenever you look in. Your always smiling. Its cute"

"Well, thanks" I smile, my face blushing as I look down at my shoes. He chuckles to himself and steps out of the door. He was dressed in a pair of black skinny jeans and black converse, a bit of an oversized red and black plaid shirt, the first few buttons open so you can see the threaded rope necklace handing loosely round his neck with a few beads on.

"You like the music" he says pointing to the vinyl's in the window.

"There actually a couple of my favourites" I smile.

"If you like them, then maybe you should come to this gig tonight. There's a band on at the Dutchess, The Blue Dawns, there brilliant, you'll love them"

"I don't know" I smile, tapping my feet together, feeling like it was all a bit of a dream, being invited to a gig to by a cute stranger.

"Come on, I'll be there, bring a friend maybe" I was so tempted to say yes, but I knew I couldn't go. I needed to work overtime as it was, so going to a gig should be the last thing I consider doing.

"I cant. Sorry" I say as I walk away. I apologize again as I keep walking, wishing I could say yes.

"I hope you change your mind, window girl" he shouts, I don't turn, I want to turn and smile, but I don't have the guts, so I smile to myself.

**This chapters music suggestion - The Kooks- Naive**


End file.
